


Boy Am I Stupid

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/M, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-02
Updated: 2010-11-02
Packaged: 2019-05-30 09:11:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15093665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: When Donna gets asked out by a congressman, Josh gets himself into deep trouble.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

Boy, am I stupid. I know this shouldn’t surprise me; after all, CJ’s informed me of it numerous times. I guess I just always thought she was kidding. But here I am, chasing Donna through the streets of DC, and I can’t deny it any longer. I am in fact stupid.

It all started two days ago. I had a meeting with a freshman congressman on after school programs for at-risk students. While I was in my office on the phone, trying to figure out why his committee had sent him instead of someone with some amount of influence, Donna was keeping him occupied in the Roosevelt Room. When I walked in there a few minutes later, I heard him “explaining” something to her.

“…into high school programs earns money for the schools that they can use for other things.” 

Before I had the chance to say anything, she smiled politely at him and then went off in total Donna style. “And I’m just saying, it does no good to throw money at high school after-school programs if by the time a kid hits high school, he’s an alcoholic, a drug addict, and has a felony record. You want to help kids; you do it when they’re young. You need more money for elementary and middle school programs. High schools, as you said, can make their own money.”

At these words, I cleared my throat, as both an indication that I was in the room and that Donna isn’t supposed to be berating congressmen like that; after all, that’s my job. I walked the rest of the way into the room and shook the man’s hand, apologizing for keeping him waiting. 

“That’s alright Mr. Lyman. Donna was… keeping me entertained,” he said with a smile in her direction. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“How have you managed to be on the Hill for three months without running into me?” I asked him. I’m under the belief that all freshmen, and most other congressmen are afraid of me. I have it under some authority that there’s an informational meeting about me when they take office.

“Luck, I guess.” 

I couldn’t help but smirk at that comment, but then I remembered my opinion-giving assistant, and looked over at her with a cross between a smile and a glare. “Are you done?”

She, of course, shrugged innocently at me. “He asked my opinion.” 

“Yeah, well, he won’t make that mistake twice.” 

She didn’t find the humor in that comment. In fact, she tilted her head and gave me an evil eye. “Are you going to fix it?”

Now, I had been looking for flaws in her argument all day long, since she had first bugged me about it at 7:15 that morning, but there was no denying that she was right. And that’s what I told her… in my own unique way, of course. “If it means that you’ll leave us alone and let us work, I promise that we will look into your little theory. Happy?”

And that was the end of it. She left to finish the research for the thing and Congressman Allen and I got to work. I immediately sat down and started scratching out crap in the draft he’d brought that we weren’t going to agree to, so I admit, I wasn’t paying close attention when he started talking. “She doesn’t take crap, does she?” he asked.

I remember chuckling at that comment, but I was busy. I was in political operative mode. “Donna? No… she believes what she believes. If you want her on your side, you’ve got to convince her you’re right.”

“You say that like you’ve had to do it before.” It hit me again at this moment that he was a freshman. Any one who’d been in congress for any amount of time already knew the answer to that one.

“Many, many times,” I said. After that, he asked a few other questions, but I wasn’t paying attention. It was already 7:30 on a Friday night, and I had plans with Toby to watch the Knick’s game at nine. I just wanted to get done and get out of there.

**********

The next day pretty much sucked, and I admit, I was stressed. I had gone directly from senior staff to a meeting on the Hill that lasted for three hours. Donna and I were going to have to work through lunch, so I preemptively attempted to smooth things over by stopping for sandwiches from Sequoia’s on my way back to the White House, but looking back, I was not mentally prepared for what happened.

We were eating, we were bantering, I was trying to catch glimpses of her bra through the little holes between the buttons on her shirt, you know, typical office stuff. And we were looking for this 180 million dollars she wanted me to spend, when out of the blue, she told me that Brett Allen had called while I was out. I honestly had no idea who Brett Allen was, so I asked her.

“The congressman you met with last night,” she said to me, reaching over and wiping the corner of my mouth with her napkin. At that point, I was too busy thinking about all the other things she could do to my mouth to really pay attention to what she was talking about. There was something about the committee and the conference call, and then, wait for it…“He also asked me to dinner tonight.”

At this comment, I nearly choked on my water. “What?” I squeaked and she bit her lip, no doubt to keep from laughing at me. 

See, we go through this every so often. You know, every time she gets asked out on a date. “He asked me out.”

“What?” I asked again. I really couldn’t formulate any other answers. What the fuck had happened? Hadn’t this guy gotten the memo? 

 

Memo

To: All Congressmen, Senators, and other political personnel in Washington, DC

From: Joshua Lyman, Deputy Chief of Staff, White House

Date: Continuous

Subject: Donnatella Moss

Donna Moss is off limits to you romantically. She will officially be mine January 23, 2007. Until then, she is to be treated as though she already is. Thank you for your cooperation in this matter.

 

“Men find me attractive, Joshua.” She said this to me as though it had never occurred to me. Like I’ve been blind for the last five years and just hadn’t mentioned it.

“Did you flirt with him last night?” I admit, this was a mistake. I all but shouted that at her, ignoring the fact that it no doubt went against any sort of employee/employer sexual harassment rules. 

Luckily, Donna is used to my… how should I put this…childlike and barbaric behavior. “No,” she said like she was talking to a five year-old.

“You did!” Another mistake. I shouldn’t have asked in the first place, but then I went ahead and outright accused her of it.

“I do not flirt,” she said to me in her stern voice.

“Oh, please,” I said, waving my arms around like some sort of mad man. “With your little pout, and your big blue eyes, and your innocent smile…” I simply couldn’t shut up at this point. My mind kept screaming stop, stop, stop, but my mouth just kept going.

She took a deep breath; the ‘I’m warning you’ breath. “That’s not flirting, Joshua, that’s simply the way I look.”

“And the whole helping the kids thing…” I yelled.

“That’s just being a good person,” she yelled back.

Then I started mimicking the flirtatious behavior she had displayed the previous night. Of course, I embellished this behavior by about 300%. “It was nice talking to you,” I said in a girly voice. “The poor guy had no chance. You’re like a black widow spider.”

“Alright. You’re gonna want to stop while you’re behind,” she said, standing up and starting to leave. 

At that point, I tried to back peddle. “What? What’d I say?” 

“You compared me to a killer spider.” See, I was hoping she hadn’t picked up on that.

“Well…”

She glared at me. “A nice, successful man asked me out on a date. I didn’t put any sort of spell on him to get him to ask me out; he did it of his own accord. That being said, I’m leaving at 6:00 tonight.” And with that, she left my office.

***********

So that night, I attempted to drown my sorrows in scotch. This never works, regardless of the brand, type, or amount of alcohol used, but still, I try. The goal, of course, is to eliminate any thoughts or images of Donna having sex with anyone other than me. 

So during my…fragile state, I began replaying the conversation Congressman Allen and I had in the Roosevelt Room. “I’m surprised she isn’t…I don’t know…contributing more.” I remember that particular statement because it struck me that he obviously hadn’t understood that we were looking for 180 million dollars because of what Donna had just said. He had no idea of her value; I think few people do. Truth be told, when President Bartlet leaves office and she and I go off to find our next real thing, she won’t be working for me, she’ll be working with me. Hopefully, she’ll be living with me, sleeping with me, and married to me too as well, but I didn’t mention that to him. 

Then there was the discussion of his top aide. “He’s unhappy here. He wants to go back to Oregon and work in the state senate. He’s just waiting until I find someone to replace him.”

And later… “Your assistant’s very intelligent and feisty. You’re lucky to have her.”

And just like that, I was in a great mood. It wasn’t a date. He had asked Donna to dinner to offer her a job.

Now you might think I should have been worried about that, but I wasn’t. There have been plenty of job offers for Donna, but she always stays. And I wasn’t lying to, what’s his name? Brett? What kind of name is Brett? Anyway, I wasn’t lying to Brett when I told him Donna knows her value. She does. She has my ear and I have the President’s. 

So, the next morning when Donna came in, I was still in a great mood. Of course, I had a hangover, a huge one, and that’s what I blame for the conversation that followed.

“Good morning, Donnatella!” I exclaimed as she walked in. I was dying to hear the details of the offer, even if she did use it to try to get a raise.

“Good morning, Joshua. Are you ready for your schedule?” she asked with a smile on her face. 

“So, how’d it go?” I ask, wiggling my eyebrows at her.

She narrows her gaze at me. “How’d what go?”

“Come on Donna, how much did he offer?”

“What?” She looked at me confused.

“Allen. How much did he offer you?”

Her eyes got huge when I asked this question, and I thought she must not have known I would figure it out. “Offer me?”

“Yeah, how much money did he offer?”

“Money?” Looking back, I should have wondered at that point why she started raising her voice?

“Yes, money. In exchange for services, one offers money. It’s the way the system works.”

When I said that, she looked at me and smiled, and then she turned around and shut the door. “What in the hell makes you think you can talk to me like that?” she screamed once she’d turned back around.

Between the hangover and the…stupid-ness, I had no clue what she was talking about. “Like what?”

“Are you saying I’m for sale?” she yelled, slamming the calendar down on the desk with a rather loud thud.

“What? No! I didn't think you accepted his offer.”

“Oh, so you’re not saying I could be bought, you’re just saying that he thought I could be.”

And that made perfect sense to me. Yes, I thought that he thought he’d be able to buy her away from me. “Yes. I just… it was obvious that he really wanted you. I figured he’d offer a lot. I’m not saying he thought you’d be cheap.”

“This is not happening. Am I having a nightmare? This cannot be happening.”

“What’s the big deal? So he offered; you didn’t accept, of course. I was just wondering if it was a good offer, if you were tempted, if you’re going to use it to get what you want from me.”

“If I was tempted?” she screamed at me, which physically hurt my head. Then she got eerily quiet. “What exactly would a tempting price be, Joshua?”

I shrugged; I didn’t know how much the other job offers had been for. “I don’t know. More than the other offers, I guess.”

“The other offers?”

“Come on Donna, I know this wasn’t your first offer. I hear things.” When I said this, she took a deep breath and looked at me like she might actually hit me, so I back peddled once again. “Ok, ok. If you don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to. I was just asking.”

Then she looked down at the floor for several seconds, and I began to panic. I thought maybe she was thinking about taking the job. But finally she looked back up at me and calmly said, “I’m leaving now. I’m leaving and I’m going home. And I’m going to decide if I should sue you or just quit. And you aren’t going to call me and you shouldn’t bother apologizing, because I’m never going to forgive you. Goodbye.” And just like that, she was gone.

**********

I chased her into the White House parking lot, but she refused to stop and tell me what the hell I’d done, so I did the only thing I could think to do in my hung-over, clearly panicked that she was leaving me state of mind. I got into my car and followed her. So, here I am, chasing my assistant, who I think just quit, through the streets of Washington DC on a Sunday morning, and I’ve decided that I’m screwed, but you already knew that, didn’t you? You’re one step ahead of me, well…at least one. And I’m…stupid.

So, I’m driving through the streets of DC and I’m once again reviewing the conversation I had with Brett, the wonder congressman, when I remember one small detail I had, in my inebriated state, blocked out. 

“Is she seeing anyone?” 

Now I admit, that question should have garnered some attention from me. I have no excuse for my lack of concern over a 37 year-old single, straight man asking about Donna’s status except that…well, I assumed he’d received the memo.

Anyway, when he asked me that, I was busy looking for ways to get the money for this program she wanted. I like coming through for her, it’s what I do. It’s my way of saying, ‘I love you.’ So, I flippantly answered the man. “Donna? No.” And then I went on talking about where the 180 million dollars was going to come from and the conversation continued from there.

And now I know. He wasn’t offering her a job; he was asking her out. 

And if he was asking her out, and didn’t offer her a job, the conversation Donna and I just had made her think….yes, I’m stupid.


	2. Boy Am I Stupid

Boy, am I stupid. I know we’ve already determined this, but I think it bears repeating. Here I am, chasing Donna through the streets of Virginia, and the main thought running through my mind is that I am in fact, stupid.

I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking I’m chasing her through the streets because of the accidentally calling her a whore thing. Oh no, my friend, you’ve underestimated my ability to make things worse. 

See, I was driving, chasing Donna, when I realized what I had said and how it had been taken, and it occurred to me that this was a simple fix. I just had to call her and explain. I mean, it was just a misunderstanding. So, I called her. And being that I was directly behind her, I could clearly see her look down at her phone. At that point, she must’ve hit answer followed immediately by end, because the phone just stopped ringing. So I tried again. And again, I got the same result. And that’s when I thought to myself, you’ve got to be pretty damn mad if you won’t even let the person you’re pissed at talk to your voice mail. Right?

So my next thought was to try to get her to pull over. That seemed to make sense to me in my hung-over, my life is ending because my assistant and love of my life is leaving me state of mind. At the next light, I pulled up next to Donna, rolled down my passenger window, thank God for power windows, and proceeded to scream her name as loudly as I possibly could. A few seconds later, she looked to her left and saw me, and her eyes nearly bugged out of her head. Apparently, she didn’t know I was following her. I began using the universal “roll down your window” sign, you know the one, but she just narrowed her eyes at me, which scares me a little bit, and faced forward again. Then she must’ve turned her radio up as loud as it goes, because I could feel the pounding bass all the way in my car. And let me just say this, Donna doesn’t fit into the pumping bass stereotype.

It’s also worth mentioning that when she looked at me, she wasn’t crying. I kind of expected that she would be. I mean, I asked if she was tempted. That couldn’t have sounded good. But no, she had not shed a single tear. What I saw in her face was…well, rage. I imagined that this was the look she gave Freeride when she figured out he’d been drinking with his friends instead of picking her up at the hospital. I imagined that she had this look the entire time she packed her things and for a good portion of the drive back to New Hampshire. I imagined that it was that same rage that gave her the courage to come back to me even though I might have told her to go to hell. I mean back to the campaign.

Anyway, I tried the same thing at the next light, with the same results. When that light turned green, she continued, but took a left at the next corner, which meant she was no longer heading for home. Having no idea where we were going, I tried getting her attention once again at the third light. That time, she waited until I was next to her, and then she took off through the red light. Through the red light, people. At this point I had a problem. Now that I had no idea where she was going, I couldn’t lose her. So, I looked both ways and sped through the red light myself to keep up with her. I called her cell again and this time she picked up. “Drop dead,” was all she said before disconnecting again, but seeing as she actually spoke, I took it as a good sign.

It was right about the time we were crossing the Potomac River and heading into Virginia that I decided I needed help. I needed someone to tell her it was a mistake, so she would calm down enough to hear me out. My first thought was CJ. That thought quickly dissipated. CJ would no doubt kill me rather than help me. If I explained to CJ that I was chasing my assistant, whom I had sexually harassed, through Virginia, well… let’s just say that she’d probably have a pace car next to Donna helping her re-fuel, and giving her food and water.

No, it couldn’t be CJ. In fact, if I didn’t want to have to explain what had happened, there was only one choice. I knew of only one person who wouldn’t ask questions; not out of a respect for privacy, mind you, but because he wouldn’t give a damn. So, I called him. 

“lo…”

“Toby, I need a favor.” As I said this, Donna took a hard left, followed by a hard right into a housing addition. She was trying to lose me!

“Well, considering that I’m at the White House working on wording for the Fair Equities Act, which you’re supposed to be helping with, I’d say I’m already doing you a favor.”

He had a valid point. “I’m going to need a second favor then.”

“Fine. I also took the call from Baker you were supposed to take.”

Shit. “Ok; a third favor.” He didn’t respond and I thought for a minute that he had hung up. “Toby?”

“I’m waiting.”

“Right. I need you to call Donna.” Another right. Another right. A quick left, left, left right, to put us back on the same street we were on two minutes ago. 

“And?” he asked calmly. 

“Tell her that I thought Congressman Allen was offering her a job.”

“What?” 

“Just call Donna on her cell and tell her that I thought he was offering her a job.”

He sighed loudly, making sure I knew that he thought he was above all of this. “And she’ll know what I’m talking about?”

Yes.” We exited the housing addition and started driving on a typical city street. She took a left from a straight lane, but I was able to make the switch and turn just as the light turned red. Bring it on, Moss!

“Ok.”

“Ok?” Just like that, I thought? He wasn’t even going to say no and make me beg?

“Ok,” he said. He must have been too busy to argue.

“You’re just going to do it, no questions asked?”

“Do you want me to feign interest?”

“Just call me back when you’re done.”

“Whatever.” And he hung up. 

At that point, I started feeling better. He would tell her I thought it was a job offer and she would call me, probably a little confused, and I could explain it to her. After all, deep down, Donna would never believe I meant that stuff.

However, all positive thoughts ended about forty-five seconds later, when my cell rang. “What happened?”

“She hung up.”

“But you told her?” I figured as long as he got the words out, she might be pissed, but she’d think about it and call me eventually.

“No.”

“No?” I squeaked.

“Are you hard of hearing?” 

At this point, we entered a mall parking lot, which is a great place to lose someone. I was impressed. “Why didn’t you tell her?”

“All I got out was ‘Josh asked me to tell you’, and she hung up.”

“You weren’t supposed to say that!” I screamed.

“What?”

“You were just supposed to say it. Not ‘Josh asked me to’. For crying out loud, Toby, can’t you follow directions?”

“I wasn’t aware you had done something so horrible that it would warrant her hanging up the phone at the mere mention of your name.”

“Well, you should have assumed! Now what?”

"I can call her back,” he said, his voice holding a hint of amusement at my expense.

“She won’t answer a call from you again.”

“I know,” he said, with even more amusement, and I hung up.

After that, I panicked for a while and tried concentrating on the road. We weren’t driving like maniacs, but Donna definitely wasn’t obeying all the traffic laws. A few minutes later, I called her again. That time, when she picked up, she simply said, “Leave me the hell alone,” before disconnecting.

At that point, I started making a mental list. I needed help from someone who Donna would listen to. Someone she trusted, someone who she knows wouldn’t lie to her for me, someone who would listen to reason and do what’s best for the both of us. Sam, Leo, the President, the Starbuck’s guy, Margaret? Someone could get through to her, right? 

Sam was the next logical choice. But when I called him, he didn’t answer. He and I are going to have to have a talk about him being readily accessible to me at all times. We’ve had that discussion before, but obviously he didn’t listen. I quickly deleted Leo and the President off the list for fear of being fired at telling them that I had sexually harassed Donna and was now chasing her through Virginia because I’m in love with her and can’t fathom losing her. The Starbuck’s guy was the next to go because I’m pretty sure he wants Donna and therefore, I don’t think he’d be on my side. Margaret seemed like a good choice until I remembered that she’s a busy-body, and ten minutes after I called her, everyone in the White House would know the whole sorted tale, including Leo, CJ, and the President, which just leads us back to the pace car, firing thing.

That’s when I sucked it up and called the only person left I could think of. Someone Donna adores, trusts, and relates with. Someone who likes Donna more than me and wouldn’t sugar coat it. Someone who knows I need help in areas like this and knows I would never do anything to hurt Donna. 

“Hello?”

“Mom, I need some help.”

“Well, I’m wonderful, Son. How are you?”

“I’ve been better, I really fucked up.”

“Joshua…” 

“Sorry.” And I was sorry, but I wasn’t thinking clearly.

“Language like that is unacceptable.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I replied like a nine year-old. Oh, to be nine again.

“Now tell me what you’ve done.”

“I accidentally called Donna a prostitute,” I mumbled very quietly and very quickly.

“What?” she yelled into the phone.

“It was an accident!”

She took a deep breath. “How do you accidentally call someone a prostitute?”

“It doesn’t matter. I need you to help me fix it.”

“It does matter. I’m not fixing something for you if you don’t deserve to have it fixed.” 

“Fine,” I growled. “She had a date last night, but I thought the guy was just offering her a job. So when she came in this morning, I asked how much he offered for her services and if she was tempted to accept the offer.”

“Joshua!” 

“I was talking about a job!”

“And did you explain that to her?”

“I tried, but she left the White House and she won’t take my calls and I’m following her, but she won’t pull over and we’ve been driving for almost two hours now.”

“You’re following her in your car?” she asked like I was some stalker lunatic.

“I said I needed help, didn’t I?”

"You’ve really fucked up.”

“Mother!” I nearly drove off the road when she said that.

“Well, I’m sorry, but you have.” And that’s when you know things have hit rock bottom. When you’re mother uses the f-word.

“Are you going to help me?”

"Are you going to tell her how you feel?” 

I was reduced to running my hands through my hair. “Yes.”

“Today?”

“No.”

“Then I’m not helping.” Yes, my mother was blackmailing me.

“But, Mom…” I started whining. 

“You need to tell her.”

I took a deep breath and tried to explain things clearly to her. “If you don’t help, I’m never going to have the opportunity to tell her.”

"I want grandchildren, Joshua.” Thank goodness I was at a red light for this sentence, because I felt the need to bang my head repeatedly against the steering wheel.

“I know you do.”

“All of my friends have grandchildren, Joshua.”

“I know they do.” I’ve heard. Many times.

“Vicki has a great grandchild on the way.”

“Could we not talk about this now?”

“We’ll table it, but we’re not dismissing it.”

“I have no doubts.”

“I need grandchildren,” she said sternly.

“Need?” She was remaining calm, but I was beginning to freak-out.

“Do you want my help or not?”

"Yes, please,” I said desperately.

“Ok, what do you want me to do?”

"You’ve got to call her and tell her that I thought it was a job offer. She won’t talk to me on the phone.”

“Ok.”

“But, you can’t tell her I told you to call. Toby just mentioned my name and she hung up on him.”

“She won’t hang up on me, Dear.”

"You can’t mess this up, Mom. You’re my only hope.”

“I’ll take care of it. And you won’t be this stupid in the future?”

“No,” I squeaked.

“And we’ll discuss grandchildren again at a later date?”

“I look forward to it,” I said sarcastically.

I started to breathe again, telling myself that my mother was a much better choice than Toby was. It was also about this time that I realized that I had a little less than a quarter of a tank of gas. 

A few minutes later, my mom called me back. “What happened?” I asked instead of saying hello.

“She didn’t hang up on me.”

“Yes!”

“That’s the good news,” she said slowly.

“Oh.”

“She’s not sure she believes me.”

“She thinks you’d lie?” I couldn’t believe that Donna would think my mom would lie. 

"For you, absolutely not. For grandchildren, maybe.”

“You talked to Donna about grandchildren!?!” I screamed! This was not the time, nor the place, for my mother to discuss with Donna the fact that she wants me to have children with her. Donna. Did that make sense?

“No, don’t be ridiculous. It’s not that she thinks I lied to her. She thinks…”

“I lied to you,” I finished her sentence. 

“Yes.”

I sighed. This wasn’t getting any easier. “I’m not lying, Mom.”

“I know you’re not. And she knows it too. You just have to let her think about it for a few minutes.”

“Ok, I will.”

“Good. Don’t call her.”

“I won’t.”

“I mean it, Joshua. She needs some time to think.”

“Ok.”

“Alright, call me later with an update. I need a story for the rec. center.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“If I had grandchildren, I wouldn’t have to use things like this.”

“Fine!”

“Love you, Son. Don’t call her.”

“I won’t,” I said, hanging up. I then immediately called Donna. What? You knew I was going to immediately call her. You knew it, I knew it, my mom knew it, Donna certainly knew it.

She picked up the phone and without a hello said, “If you say even one word, I’m hanging up.”

“Donna.” And she wasn’t lying. As soon as I said her name, she disconnected and tossed the phone onto the passenger seat.

A minute later, I tried again. “I mean it Josh, one word and I’m hanging up.”

“It was…” and I saw her toss the phone onto the passenger seat again.

I screamed and then tried one more time. “Not one word,” she said as she answered. I sat quietly, dying to say something, and that’s when the most bizarre thing happened. She started talking. “I’m thirsty,” she said. “I would like to go home. If you are willing to go to your home and let me go to mine and leave me the hell alone for a while, cough once.” I didn’t cough. “Fine, bastard. Then I’m going to stop at a fast-food restaurant and get something to drink. You are not to approach me while I’m in the drive-thru. If you follow these instructions, I will not speed away while you order something for yourself to drink. If you understand and agree to this, cough one time.” I coughed once. “Fine. This is a temporary truce Lyman. If you break your deal on this truce, I will drive away and throw this phone out the window. If you understand this, cough once.” I coughed once. “Fine. Goodbye.”

Ten minutes later, we were in line at a McDonald’s drive-thru. Twice, I started to get out of the car to talk to her, but both times she rolled down her window and yelled, “Stay in the car, Lyman.” 

After she ordered, I ordered. When I got up to the pay window, the woman there told me my total was $6.17. “For a coke?”

“The woman in that car,” she said, pointing to Donna, “said you were buying hers as well.”

Of course she did. “Right. I forgot,” I said, smiling, and handed the woman the money. I was keeping at eye on Donna at all times for fear that she would renege on her end of the deal and pull away once she got her food. To my surprise, however, she pulled into a parking space and waited for me.

When I got my $6.17 coke, I assumed she’d pull out of her spot and the chasing would commence. But she stayed in her spot. So I pulled into the spot next to her and waited. Then, ever so slowly, her car door opened up and she got out with her bag and drink and stood next to my passenger door. I hit the power locks and reached over and opened the door for her, still saying nothing, and she got in.

Neither of us said anything for over a minute when she got in the car, until she handed me a double cheeseburger and an order of french fries. “Thanks,” I whispered and then we ate in complete silence.

When she was done, she opened the car door and got out, walked to the trashcan and threw the bag away, and then walked back to her car. At that point, I couldn’t take it anymore, so I jumped out of my car.

“I thought it was a job offer!” I yelled, just as she opened her door.

“Your mom told me,” she said quietly.

“It’s the truth,” I said, walking slowly to her on the other side of my car.

She didn’t say anything, but she turned around slowly and looked at me for the first time since the first red light. “It’s the truth,” I repeated softly when I was standing right in front of her.

She still didn’t say anything. She just stared at me for what felt like hours, and then she closed her eyes and flung her arms around my neck and held me with what I imagined was all her strength, and right there, in the McDonald’s parking lot, I thought to myself, everything’s going to be ok.

“I would never say that stuff about you,” I whispered, pulling her close to me.

“I know,” she whispered back, and I felt a tear drop on my neck.

“I just… I couldn’t believe he was asking you on a date, I thought it had to be a job offer.” Yes, you’re beginning to see where I made my next mistake.

She pulled back and looked at me, a few tears running down her face and now that I look back, her eyebrows shot up around her hairline. Why didn’t I notice that then? “What?” she asked.

“Come on, Donna. A congressman?” I said with a smile.

“Yes, a congressman,” she said slowly.

“Doesn’t that seem odd to you? Has a senator or congressman ever asked you out before?” I asked, leaning against my car and relaxing.

“No…”

“Don’t you think there’s a reason for that?”

When I said that, she smiled at me, and I figured she knew that she was off limits to congressmen and senators. Then she turned and opened her car door and got in, still looking at me and smiling. Once she was seated, she slammed the door and hit her power locks button before I even had time to register that she was pissed again. “Donna!” 

She started her car and rolled down her window just a bit as I desperately tried to open her car door from the outside. “I guess I’m not smart enough, not educated enough, and not classy enough for a congressman, huh Josh?” she asked, and then peeled out of the parking lot.

So, here I am, once again chasing Donna through the streets of Virginia, wondering how in the hell I’m going to get out of this one. And a single thought keeps going through my mind; boy, am I stupid.


	3. Boy Am I Stupid

Boy, am I stupid. I know we’ve determined this multiple times, but I think it bears repeating…again. Here I am, chasing Donna through the streets of Virginia, and the main thought running through my mind is that I am in fact, stupid.

I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking I’m chasing her through the streets because of the accidentally calling her stupid thing. Oh no, my friend, you’ve once again underestimated my ability to make things worse.

See, I was standing in the McDonald’s parking lot, watching Donna peel rubber out of there, and I was in so much shock that for several seconds I couldn’t move. What had just happened? When she turned right out of the parking lot, I snapped back to reality and started running for the driver’s side of my car. She was already on the main road, but thank goodness she was stopped at a red light behind a few other cars, otherwise she would have lost me completely.

After weaving in and out of traffic like some sort of wannabe Indy car driver for several blocks, and being flipped off by an eighty year-old woman, I caught up with Donna. I tried getting her attention at a few red lights, but that didn’t work, so I tried calling. Unfortunately, the only thing she said before disconnecting was, “Why bother trying, I’m far too stupid to understand anything you might say.” That was when I decided I didn’t understand women at all and that it was possible Donna had completely lost her mind. Where did she get the stupid thing? It was clear to me at this point that I needed a woman’s opinion.

“Joshua, did you fix it?” she asked when she answered.

“Well…”

“Oh no.”

“Mom, it’s not my fault,” I said adamantly.

“It’s not?” She sounded somewhat doubtful, but I decided to let it go, I was running out of time… and gas.

“No, she’s lost her mind!” I yelled.

My mother very calmly replied. “Dealing with a lunatic following her around Virginia all day, I’m not surprised. What happened?”

“I told her about the prostitute thing, and she believed me, and then she accused me of thinking she’s stupid or something, when we all know that’s not true.” I was rambling, but I couldn’t stop myself.

“Well, did you call her stupid?” What???

“No! I just pointed out to her that I wasn’t used to congressmen asking her out, and that’s why I had assumed he was offering her a job.”

“And that’s it?”

“Yes!” I shouted.

“Ok, I’ll call you back.”

“But, Mom, I need your help!”

“I said I’ll call you back Dear, it’s my turn to deal.”

“You’re deserting me in my time of need to play cards? I thought you wanted grandchildren.”

“I do.”

“Well, Donna’s the only woman who has any chance of putting up with me long enough to procreate.”

“I’m well aware of that, Dear. I’ll call you back.”

“But…I can’t keep following her indefinitely. I’m going to have to go to work tomorrow.” And at that point, I didn’t even know where I was. We’d been driving for almost three hours, and I’d been too busy watching Donna to watch street signs. 

“I’ll call you back,” she said, and hung up.

While patiently waiting for my mother to finish whatever senior citizen activity had her so occupied that she couldn’t help her only son, I called into the office, where Toby told me that Donna had received flowers. “You must’ve really messed up if you sent flowers,” he said, berating me.

“What? I didn’t send flowers.” Now I was panicking, that bastard bought her flowers.

“Oh, well someone did,” he said, laughing at me in his own unique non-laughing way.

“Who? Never mind, I know who. What kind of flowers are they?”

“Do I look like a florist to you?” 

“Come on Toby. Are they roses or not?”

“Yeah, a dozen.”

“And are they red?”

“They are.”

“Then you know damn well what kind of flowers they are! They’re ‘I had a great time last night and I can’t wait to see you again’ flowers!”

“I didn’t know Donna had a date last night,” he said, still amused at my misfortunate situation. 

“Yes, she had a date last night! With Congress-fucking-man Brett Allen!” By this time I was screaming.

“What?” he asked, surprised. Finally, someone other than me was alarmed by this news.

“Brett Allen took her out last night!”

“A congressman?”

“Yes.”

“Well…that’s a first,” he said quietly.

“Yeah.”

“That’s what you thought was a job offer…” he said to himself more than to me.

“There are rules.”

“There really aren’t.”

“Really? Anyone in congress ever ask out Andi?”

“Hell no, there are…”

“Right. I have to go. I have to talk to Matt Skinner. You take care of the card in those flowers.”

“Yeah. Hey, remind him about Andi.”

I took a few deep breaths to calm myself. This was Matt Skinner’s department; he was supposed to have our backs on this. What the hell was happening over there on the hill? God knows they don’t get any government work done; this is all we ask of him. 

“Hey Josh,” he answered.

“We have a situation.”

“What? The death tax again?”

“No, not the estate…wait, have you heard something?” That was the last thing I needed to deal with.

“No,” he said laughing. “I just like getting you.”

“Now’s not the time, there’s a problem with Donna.”

“What about her?”

“She had a date last night with Brett Allen! Congressman Brett Allen! What the hell’s going on over there, Matt?”

“Really? Brett Allen asked out Donna?” He sounded genuinely confused about this.

“Yes.”

“Maybe he was offering her a job, he’s looking for a new aide.”

“No. This was a date, date.”

“Wow,” he sounded flabbergasted. 

“This is your department, Matt. I look the other way on the whole you pretending to be a republican thing and you keep congress from dating my wife!”

“I know my duties, Josh. I just…I didn’t think I needed to worry about Brett Allen.”

“Why not? She’s a beautiful, smart, sexy, caring, perfect, possibly deranged woman. He’s single, fairly close to her in age, breathing...”

“Deranged?”

“Focus!”

“I’m sorry, but… I thought he was gay.”

“You what?”

“I thought he was gay!”

“Well your gaydar sucks! He’s trying to get with my woman!”

“Ok, I’ll take care of it.”

“Today. Take care of it today. He sent flowers; I’ve had to enlist Toby’s help. You know how much I hate doing that.”

“Fine, I’ll take care of it today.”

I took a deep breath “Ok, good.”

“No problem, lunch next week?”

“Sure. And Toby wanted me to remind you about Andi.”

“Got it. Andi, Donna, off limits.”

After I hung up with Matt, I felt better. Donna might be pissed at me, but at least the Brett Allen problem was taken care of. There would be no more dates, and the card in those flowers was going to mysteriously disappear. So maybe I felt a little guilty, but I’d have to live with it. I’d been doing this for five years; it was no time to go soft. 

When my phone rang again, it was my mom. Finally.

“Mom, thank goodness. I need your help.”

“She’s crying,” she said to me. 

“How do you know?”

“I was just talking to her.”

“You were? Is she ok?”

“No she’s not ok, she’s crying, and it’s your fault.” 

“I know. I messed up and she won’t listen to me and I’m following her around and I don’t know what to do.”

“Did you leave something out the last time we spoke?” she asked in her stern motherly voice.

“No.”

“No?”

“No!” 

“You didn’t tell her there was a reason that a congressman had never asked her out.”

“I don't know… I guess so.”

“And why isn’t Donna good enough for a congressman, Joshua?”

“I never said that,” The screech came into play about this time.

“Then what is the reason a congressman has never asked her out?”

“Because.” 

“Because she’s just an assistant?” 

“No! I’ve never said ‘just’ in front of the word ‘assistant!’ Donna’s not ‘just’ anything!”

“A congressman would be lucky to have a smart, witty, beautiful woman like Donna!”

“I know!”

“Obviously you don’t, not if you think there’s a reason one has never asked her out!”

“There is a reason!”

“Really, then what is it?”

“It’s not important!”

“Why don’t they ask her out?”

“Because they know I’d kill them if they did!”

At that point, the line went silent for several long seconds and I waited for my mother to annihilate me over the phone. Instead, she spoke quietly. “There you go, Donna. I told you there was a reason.”

“What? What are you talking about Mom?”

“Donna’s on the line too.”

“What? Donna?” That’s when Donna pulled off onto the shoulder of the road, flung her car door open, and started walking towards me. Oh shit.

“Mom…” I choked out.

“I’m not sorry, Joshua. You’re playing games with that woman’s heart and I’m not going to help you do it,” she said as she hung up.

I put the phone down and sat very still in the front seat, wondering what in the hell I was going to do. It was one thing for us to both know, it was another to say it out loud.

“Get out of the car, Josh,” Donna said when she reached me. I opened the door and stood in front of her, but kept my eyes on the ground. “You have forbidden members of congress from asking me out?” She didn’t sound too…well, she sounded pissed. 

“You and my mom set me up?” I asked quietly.

“I did not set you up. She put me on hold and a few seconds later I heard your voice. Congress is under orders not to date me?”

“Donna…”

“Don’t Donna me! Who else isn’t allowed to date me, Josh?” she screamed.

“It’s not what it sounds like,” I whispered, finally looking up at her tear-stained face. God she looked beautiful.

“It’s not? Because it sounds like you still think any interaction I have with anyone in politics is a betrayal to you.”

“What?” I didn’t know what the hell she was talking about.

“This goes back to Cliff, right?”

What???? “No!”

“Bullshit!” she screamed, and turned and headed back to her car, which is where you came in. Here I am, chasing Donna through the streets of Virginia, this time by foot, after making things worse once again.

“Donna, wait!” I yell, jogging after her.

“No!”

“You don’t understand!”

“I do understand! You weren’t saying I’m stupid. You were saying I’m untrustworthy!” She’s screaming at me in a way she never has before.

“That’s not true, Donna.” She gets to her car, but she just keeps walking. I finally catch up to her and touch her arm, but she pulls away and keeps walking. “That’s not it,” I yell after her. I’m only about two steps behind her at this point, but she won’t stop and talk to me.

“Yes it is!”

“No, it’s not!” 

“Then why Josh? Why can’t someone in congress ask me out? Why do you care?”

“Let’s go someplace and talk about this.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you! Why?”

“Donna, please.” 

“Why?”

“Because you belong with me and they damn well know it! That’s why!” 

She stops suddenly and turns to face me. “What?”

“I…” and I don’t know what to say, so instead of saying anything, I grab her face in both of my hands and pull her to me, and I kiss her. She doesn’t respond and I start to panic. What was I thinking? I’ve pissed her off more today than ever before, and I pick this to be the day I kiss her for the first time?

I pull back and drop my hands to my side. “I’m sorry. I…” and then she’s kissing me. Her arms are around my neck and mine are around her waist and I open my mouth a little, and she does too, and then our tongues are dancing together, and I pull her close so that our bodies are pressed up against each other, and they fit perfectly together, and I’m not sure if my heart has stopped beating or really started for the first time, and she’s warm and tastes oddly familiar and I can’t really think of anything in the world except this kiss and this woman and this moment. And then it occurs to me; I’ve waited five years to do this?

Boy, am I stupid.


	4. Boy Are We Stupid

Boy, are we stupid. I wish I could blame it all on Josh, and to his face I will, but the truth is, it took two of us to be this stupid. We could try to blame it all on Brett Allen, but although he’s a complete bore and somewhat dense, it wasn’t his fault. No, now that I look back, it was Josh and me, no one else. We are… to put it bluntly, stupid.

It all started yesterday. No. Friday. No. Yesterday. Yes. Yesterday. See, when Brett called and asked me to dinner, I said no. Friday night in that meeting he was an idiot. His whole “putting money into high school after school programs creates money they can use for other things.” He didn’t mean after school programs, he meant football, maybe basketball. No other high school programs create any real amount of money. Cross-country bringing in the money these days? The chess club packing them in? No, I don’t think so. Then he told Josh that I was entertaining him???? Please, I just wanted to smack him, which I did verbally. Anyway, I regress…

But then Josh had to go and open his big mouth and call me a black widow spider. That’s where he started being stupid. I couldn’t let it go, so I called Brett the wonder congressman back and told him I was able to make the date after all. That’s where I started being stupid. For one thing, it made me look desperate. Like I had changed my plans so I could go out with the idiot, when in fact, I had made up plans so I wouldn’t have to. For another thing, I should have been the adult; Lord knows Josh isn’t going to be.

But no, I went out on the date. I had, by the way, an absolutely horrible time. He talked about western films and his grandmother all night. He chewed with his mouth open and ordered his steak rare. The thing looked alive. And then at the end of the night, he made a pass at me when he took me home, which I’m not going to mention to Josh for obvious reasons. I don’t need him beating the hell out of a congressman in the middle of the Capitol. We’ve got enough enemies there. 

Anyway, back to the story. I went on the date from hell, and then I came into work yesterday, where Josh asked me how much money the guy offered for my services and if I was tempted to take the offer or if I was going to use said offer to get what I wanted from him? I’m gonna go right ahead and say this part wasn’t my fault. I told Josh it was date; he chose to pretend otherwise. I even asked him in his office if he was saying I was for sale. I attempted to clarify, so I’m not taking any blame for this portion of the stupidity. I just want that to be clear from the beginning.

Now I’m not going to bore you with the whole story. I know Josh has been filling you in. I’m just going to give you the highlights…

I left the White House planning to go home, eat Ben and Jerry’s Cherry Garcia my oldest friend, take a bubble bath, and then watch 'Nine to Five'. That seemed to be the movie that best fit the situation. However, on the way home, I thought I heard my name. So I looked out my window and Josh was in the car next to me, giving me the universal ‘roll down your window’ sign. What the hell? I’d already hung up on him twice, not caring to listen to him blabbering on about how it was a joke and I needed to lighten up, and he’s sorry, and please don’t quit. I just wasn’t in the mood. Now he was following me?

That’s when I decided not to go home where he could both find me and let himself into my apartment with his key. Thus began the chase. Who did we think we were anyway, OJ Simpson? He was following me through the streets? How immature are we?

A series of events took place soon after that included the following: breaking several driving laws, driving through random housing additions and mall parking lots in Virginia in attempts to lose Josh, telling Josh to drop dead, hanging up on Toby, calling the country radio station and requesting “No One Else On Earth” by Wynona, and canceling Josh’s cleaning service for the week out of spite. I could’ve done worse, but I didn’t have everyone’s phone number with me.

Then Josh did something smart. I know, it’s hard to believe, but he did. He had his mom call me. I can’t hang up on her. I hope to be her daughter-in-law someday. Well, she gave Josh his big break by convincing me to think about the conversation. She then told me she’d tell Josh to leave me alone and give me some time to think. He called me 84 seconds later; I timed him.

I answered with, “If you say even one word, I’m hanging up.”

“Donna.” And I hung up. I was going to control this conversation, not him.

A minute later, he called again. “I mean it Josh, one word and I’m hanging up.”

“It was…” and I hung up again.

I guess with Josh, third time’s a charm. He called and I answered, “Not one word.” To my utter amazement he was quiet, and I introduced my “temporary truce” plan, which was my way of being an adult. I was thirsty, I was hungry, and on a day like this one, you can’t McDonald’s. Plus, in my book, Josh owed me lunch. We’d been driving for over two hours. 

However, I was still pissed. I hadn’t had time to think about the conversation like Judy asked me to; he’d called too quickly. And quite frankly, I still didn’t believe him. The sick thing, and I mean absolutely sick and twisted, was that I was beginning to find it cute that he cared enough to follow me. I know; I’m such a girl. 

So anyway, I was thirsty, but I wanted to think for a few minutes before talking to Josh, and I may be stupid, but I’m no idiot. I knew he wasn’t going to let me out of that parking lot without trying to talk to me. I needed advice before food, and I needed a woman’s perspective.

“Hello?”

“CJ, if I call later and need directions to a dump to dispose of a body, I need you to give me said directions without asking questions.”

“Can I help?” Gotta love CJ. Even then, she could make me laugh.

“I need some advice.”

“What’s up?”

“Hypothetically; if a man asked you how much another man offered you, and if you were tempted to accept said offer, what would your reaction be?”

“Hmm… very interesting. What are we talking about when he asks me this?”

“A date.”

“Death,” she said slowly and poignantly. 

“Because you’d think…”

“He was calling me a whore,” she finished for me.

“Right. What if you were talking about a job offer?” 

“Well, I guess that would depend on if I was considering it. If I was, I’d be honest. If I wasn’t, I’d use it to get a raise from my current boss. Why do you ask?”

“Well, I had dinner with Brett Allen last night, and…”

“He offered you the position? Wow. Are you really considering it?”

“The position?” I didn’t know what the hell she was talking about.

“His top aide hates it here; he’s looking for a new one.”

“What?”

“His top aide…”

“Shit!” I cut her off. “I have to go. The bastard was telling the truth.”

“The bastard? Is everything ok?”

“Yeah, I just have to talk to Josh about something.”

“Call me back if you need those directions.”

And that’s when Josh’s story started to hold water. That’s why, when we got to McDonald’s, I ordered him lunch. And by ordered I mean ordered. I didn’t buy him lunch. In fact, he bought me lunch. And when I got into his car, still not 100% sure of his truthfulness, we ate in complete silence. It was nice; he even whispered thanks. 

But when I got out of the car, he jumped out too, just like I knew he would. “I thought it was a job offer!” he yelled frantically.

“Your mom told me.”

“It’s the truth,” he said quickly, walking over to where I was standing. He was being really cautious approaching me, like he was afraid I’d run away. It was… really sweet. There I go being a girl again. “It’s the truth,” he said even softer when he was in front of me.

I stared at him for a few seconds, and then all these emotions took over and I found myself throwing my arms around him and crying. I was so relieved that he didn’t say that stuff. It’s like finding out the man you love is a serial killer, and you know you have to leave him even though you still love him. And you find yourself wondering, ‘how could the man I love do that?’ That’s how I felt when he said that stuff. But then, when I found out he didn’t mean it that way, it was like finding out the man who you thought was a serial killer and you were going to have to leave, isn’t one after all, and suddenly it’s ok to love him again. Understand? Where the hell did that analogy come from?

“I would never say that stuff about you,” he whispered, pulling me close. It’s worth mentioning that he smelled really good at this point and I was considering staying in his arms forever, right there in the McDonald’s parking lot. 

“I know,” I whispered back.

And that’s when he got stupid again. “I just… I couldn’t believe he was asking you on a date, I thought it had to be a job offer.” You know the rest of the conversation; I don’t want to re-live it.

So the chase began again. And this time, I wasn’t so much pissed, as I was sad. I mean, I was pissed, really, really pissed, but I was so upset. Because all this time, Josh had never treated me like a college dropout secretary, not until that moment. And just like that, I felt small and inconsequential. Like he hadn’t needed me over the last five years. Like he had taken pity on me, and continued to do that every day, and although we worked together and flirted with each other, he didn’t respect me, and how would he ever love me if he didn’t respect me. 

And then, as if someone out there was laughing at me, my cell rang again.

“Hello?”

“Donna, hi. It’s Brett. Brett Allen.” Great.

“Brett, hi.”

“Hi, I just wanted to say thanks for a great evening last night.”

He must’ve been on a different date than I was. “No, thank you. Dinner was…” boring as hell… “good. I love Morton’s…” for business dinners, not dates.

“Good. I’m glad you enjoyed it.” Did I say the word enjoy? “I was wondering if you’d like to go out again. One of my favorite authors is giving a lecture at Georgetown tonight. Maybe we could grab dinner and make a night of it.” 

Oh Lord, no more western book talk. “Well, I’m… out of town right now. I’m not sure what time I’ll be back.” I said that as I looked down and realized I had just over a quarter a tank of gas. I was pretty confident that Josh’s tank was lower than mine, but there was cause for concern. What if I ran out in the middle of nowhere? I wasn’t even sure where in Virginia we were.

“Oh. Well, we could play it by ear. Why don’t you call me when you’re back in town? The lecture doesn’t start until eight. If you’re not back in time for dinner, we could get coffee afterwards.”

“Umm…ok. I’ll call if I get back in time.” I stressed the word “if.”

And that’s when I started my own little pity party. I was a mess; exhausted from stress, tired of driving, and dreading the thought of another night out with the world’s most boring politician. I really just wanted to go home and take that bath. This pity party led to things such as sobbing uncontrollably about my pitiful excuse for a love life, sobbing uncontrollably about missing everyone of my niece’s 6th grade volleyball games, sobbing uncontrollably about the fact that I was almost out of toilet paper and when this nightmare of a day ended, I was still going to have to go to the store, sobbing uncontrollably about the fact that my sister has three kids and I don’t have any, and finally calling the classic rock station and requesting 'I Can’t Make You Love Me’ by Bonnie Rait.

Anyway, almost another hour went by before Judy called me.

“Hello?” 

“So, I hear the hot date was with a congressman? Successful, probably rich, two homes…” And just hearing her soothing voice brought out the tears again.

“He called me stupid,” I whispered.

“He did? Are you sure?”

“Yes.” And we talked for a minute about what Josh told her he’d said, compared to what he had actually said. When I replayed the conversation for her, not only did I really start crying, she got upset. I’m pretty sure she likes me better than Josh.

“He what?” she yelled. 

“He said there’s a reason no one in congress has ever asked me out. What else would that reason be? He obviously thinks I’m not good enough for one of his precious politicians.” 

“That’s not it Donna. I guarantee it. Josh thinks you’re amazing. You have to know that.”

“I don’t know anything when it comes to Josh anymore. I thought after re-election… but then…” We were both quiet for a minute after that.

“Donna, there is a reason he said that, but it’s not what you think.” 

“If that’s not it, what is it?” 

“Honey, I need you to hold on a second. Don’t hang up, I’ll be right back, and we’ll figure this out.” And the line went quiet for several seconds.

“Mom, thank goodness. I need your help.” I gasped when I heard Josh’s voice. I wasn’t sure what was going on, but then I heard his mom talk to him.

“She’s crying.” I felt like I should say something, but I didn’t know what to say, plus I was crying pretty bad by then, which just made me feel like some lovesick pathetic loser. So I just listened, because I didn’t know what else to do.

“How do you know?”

“I was just talking to her.” She sounded pissed.

“You were? Is she ok?” And again, I found myself thinking it was sweet that he was concerned about me. 

“No she’s not ok, she’s crying, and it’s your fault.” 

“I know. I messed up and she won’t listen to me and I’m following her around and I don’t know what to do.”

“Did you leave something out the last time we spoke?” 

“No.”

“No?”

“No!” 

“You didn’t tell her there was a reason that a congressman had never asked her out?”

“I don't know... I guess so,” he said sheepishly.

“And why isn’t Donna good enough for a congressman, Joshua?”

“I never said that?” 

“Then what is the reason a congressman has never asked her out?”

“Because.” 

“Because she’s just an assistant?” 

“No! I’ve never said ‘just’ in front of the word ‘assistant!’ Donna’s not ‘just’ anything!” Again with the being sweet. How was I supposed to stay mad when he said amazing things like that? 

“A congressman would be lucky to have a smart, witty, beautiful woman like Donna!”

“I know!” 

“Obviously you don’t, not if you think there’s a reason one has never asked her out!”

“There is a reason!” By this time, they were yelling at each other. 

“Really, then what is it?”

“It’s not important!”

“Why don’t they ask her out?”

“Because they know I’d kill them if they did!” 

When he said that, the line got really quiet for a few seconds, and I think I stopped breathing. “There you go, Donna. I told you there was a reason.”

“What? What are you talking about Mom?” Josh asked.

“Donna’s on the line too.” And that’s when I came to my senses, screeched to a stop at the side of the road, and tore out of the car to kill Josh.

“Get out of the car, Josh,” I screamed when she got to his car. He got out, but wouldn’t look at me. “You have forbidden members of congress from asking me out?” I think it’s possible that I had never been as angry with him as I was right then.

“You and my mom set me up?” he had the nerve to ask.

“I did not set you up. She put me on hold and a few seconds later I heard your voice. Congress is under orders not to date me?”

“Donna…”

“Don’t Donna me! Who else isn’t allowed to date me, Josh?” I screamed.

“It’s not what it sounds like,” he whispered.

“It’s not? Because it sounds like you still think any interaction I have with anyone in politics is a betrayal to you.”

“What?” 

“This goes back to Cliff, right?” Do you know about the Cliff thing? There was this guy, we went out, he was fighting with Josh about the estate tax, I slept with him, he threatened to have me arrested, Josh saved my ass and then made my next year a living hell by dating Amy Gardner, she-devil…. Yes, Cliff. You remember.

“No!”

“Bullshit!” I screamed. I couldn’t believe we were back to this, and I turned and headed back to my car.

He started following me, this time on foot. “Donna, wait!” 

“No!”

“You don’t understand!”

“I do understand! You weren’t saying I’m stupid. You were saying I’m untrustworthy!” And now I was sobbing and screaming, and I don’t even want to think about the scene we were making on the side of a very busy street.

“That’s not true, Donna. That’s not it.” 

“Yes it is!”

“No, it’s not!” 

“Then why Josh? Why can’t someone in congress ask me out? Why do you care?”

“Let’s go someplace and talk about this.” Like there was any chance in hell I was going to go anywhere with him. I just wanted answers. He could’ve had me anytime, and he chose not to. Who was he to say he no one else could have me either?

“I’m not going anywhere with you! Why?”

“Donna, please.” 

“Why?”

“Because you belong with me and they damn well know it! That’s why!” 

That’s when the world stopped spinning on its axis. I stopped and looked at him, tears streaming down my face, which had to have an utterly shocked expression on it. “What?”

And then the most amazing thing happened. He started to talk, but then he took my face in his hands, and kissed me. I was so stunned that I just kind of stood there, trying to memorize the very feel of his lips on mine. This was it; the first, and certainly not the last time Joshua Lyman would kiss me. On the side of who knows what street in who knows where Virginia with who knows who driving by. 

And then he pulled back and apologized. “I’m sorry. I…” and he looked devastated, because I hadn’t responded at all, I was so shocked. So I pulled him close and kissed him. And let me tell you; this kiss was amazing. Our bodies fit together like magic, my hands were make to be in his hair, our chests were rising and falling together, his tongue was… wow. And then, he had me up against my car, and his hand was under my shirt on my back and I could feel his erection, and I was unbuttoning his shirt, and then a car honked at us.

“Josh, we can’t stand here all day,” I managed to get out even though he was doing something to my neck that has to be illegal in some country somewhere.

“Right,” he said, but just kept going. And I swear, if the sun had been down so people wouldn’t have noticed, we would’ve had sex right there.

“Josh, we can’t,” I said again. And he stopped and looked up at me like I’d just killed his dog. “I mean, we can’t here,” I clarified.

He got a huge smile on his face. “Right. The back seat?”

“The back seat?” I shrieked.

“Right. That’s bad. We’re gonna need more room than that.” And when he said that in all seriousness, I couldn’t help but laugh.

“We could go to my place,” I said, somewhat out of breath, as he’d gone back to doing the neck thing.

“Too far,” he groaned into my ear, and just for fun, I bent my leg that was between his, and came in contact with his erection, and he groaned again. 

Then he upped the ante by palming my breast, and it was my turn to groan. After that, we kissed for a while, until I realized I was holding his tie. We really needed to move this inside. “We passed a Comfort Suites a few blocks back,” I said, nipping at his Adam’s apple with my top teeth and lower lip. 

Well, that did it, because he stepped back and looked at me. “Are you sure?” he asked. Once again, being sweet. I nodded, and he kissed me on the lips again, and said, “I’ll follow you there.” And I couldn’t help but laugh at the irony of it.

On the way to the hotel, I looked at my cell and noticed I had a message. “Donna, hi. This is Brett again. I’m sorry, but I’m not going to be able to make it tonight after all. I was just talking to Congressman Skinner and… something’s come up and… well; I’m going to be pretty busy for a while. You know how life is here in DC. Anyway, umm… I’m… well, it was nice meeting you and maybe I’ll give you a call when my schedule settles down. And, uh… I guess I’ll see you around the hill in the meantime. Bye…” Whatever.

We weren’t in our hotel room for more than two minutes before I was well on my way to the first of the four orgasms I’ve had in the last five hours. We finally called his mom to say thanks and then ordered a pizza. Josh insisted on answering the door when the delivery guy came because he didn’t want me putting on clothes. And now, he’s licking pizza sauce off my stomach and I have a feeling orgasm number five isn’t too far away, and all I can think is: we’ve been running from this for five years?

Boy, are we stupid.


	5. Boy Is He Stupid

Boy is he stupid. Yes, he’s my son, and yes, I love him. And yes, he’s brilliant, but he’s also stupid. It might not sound like something a mother would say, but when it comes to women, there’s no way around it; he’s stupid. I love him, but he’s dated some real shrews in the past. There was this one woman, a lobbyist for women’s groups… 

So, I was getting ready to leave for my bridge game today when he called me and told me he accidentally called Donna a prostitute. Already you’re thinking to yourself, how do you accidentally call someone a prostitute. That’d be like accidentally sleeping with one, it’s preposterous. 

Now you may not know this, but I have very high hopes, and so does Josh, that Donna will be my daughter-in-law and the mother of my grandchildren someday. So I didn’t take it well when he told me that he had called her a prostitute. He’s not helping our cause.

Apparently Donna had a date last night, and he thought it was a job offer, so this morning… you’re not even going to believe this. This morning, he asked her how much the guy offered her for her services and if she was tempted to accept the offer. Yes, my son, political mastermind.

I agreed to help, but only after torturing him for a minute about grandchildren. Don’t give me any slack. I’m the only woman in my retirement village who doesn’t have stories about grandchildren, the only one who doesn’t have illegible drawings magnetted to her refrigerator, the only one who doesn’t lure said grandchildren to Florida with promises of Disney World and the ocean so they can drag the child all around the retirement village showing him or her off. The only one.

So anyway, after agreeing to help my helpless son, I called Donna.

“Hello?”

“Donna, sweetheart. How’re you holding up?” 

“Judy?” She sounded ok, considering. A little tired maybe, definitely pissed, but ok.

“Yes, my son told me he was an ass. I was calling to see how you are?”

“I’ve been better. Did he tell you that he’s chasing me like some sort of stalker?”

I couldn’t help laughing at the thought of my son tailing Donna. He must’ve been losing his mind. “Yes. You know, he’s brilliant, but he’s…. well… an idiot. You’re pretty upset, I take it.”

“It was horrible.” Now, that sounded sad. I know that he’s been an ass to her before. I also know that it’s because he’s trying so desperately not to drop to one knee in the White House and propose. He’s so on guard with her sometimes that he doesn’t even realize that by trying to be neutral, he’s disparaging. He also doesn’t realize that she must love him helplessly if she stays through it each time. 

“I’m surprised you didn’t hit him,” I said, trying to lighten the mood.

“I was tempted,” she said, chuckling a little bit.

“I think he would’ve preferred it to the silent treatment.” Josh can’t stand to have Donna not talking to him. He needs the sound of her voice like he needs air.

“You called to plead his case?”

“I called to plead the case of my future grandchildren.”

“What?” 

“Never mind.” We’ll table that discussion. “You know I wouldn’t stick up for him if he didn’t deserve it. I’m not disillusioned into thinking my son is perfect.”

“He asked me how much the guy offered for…my services,” she whispered, choking a bit on the last words. 

“Yeah, like I said, he’s an idiot. But Donna, he thought it was a job offer.”

“What?” 

“He told me he thought it was a job offer.”

“That’s ridiculous. I told him yesterday it was a date.” 

“Well, for whatever reason, he thought the man was offering you a job. When he was talking about money, he was talking about a job offer.”

“That’s what he told you?” She sounded doubtful.

“Yes.”

“I…I don’t think so.”

“You think he’s lying?”

“I think he hates it when I date, and he probably thought he was kidding and now he’s trying to get himself out of it without me quitting or suing him.” Donna knows Josh very well. The truth is, if he had said it as a joke, he would’ve done anything to get her to stay. He wouldn’t last a day in his job without her there. And he does hate it when she dates, which is probably why he had convinced himself it was a job offer.

“He does hate it when you date. You must know there’s a reason for that. Just… just promise me this. Think about the conversation the two of you had this morning and ask yourself if he could’ve been talking about a job offer. Just think about it and make your own decision. You know him better than anyone else, you’ll figure it out.”

“I’m not making any promises right now,” she said.

“Ok, fair enough. You’re going to be ok?”

“Yeah, could you tell him to leave me alone for a while?”

“Absolutely. Call me if you need to talk.”

“I will, thanks.”

After my conversation with Donna, I called Josh and forbid him from calling her for a while. I’m sure he called her the second he hung up with me.

I then went on with my day. I was at my bridge game, which is really just gossip accompanied by activity, when Josh called me back.

“Joshua, did you fix it?” I asked when I answered.

“Well…”

“Oh no.” My son has a knack for making things worse. I don’t know where he gets it. His father was very charming. He always said the right things and looked at me just the right way. I had hoped Josh would take after him. Fortunately, he got his father’s dimples; otherwise, he’d have no hope with women.

“Mom, it’s not my fault.” Yeah, right. 

“It’s not?” 

“No, she’s lost her mind!” 

Well, if that’s true, it can only be expected after five years with him. “Dealing with a lunatic following her around Virginia all day, I’m not surprised. What happened?”

“I told her about the prostitute thing, and she believed me, and then she accused me of thinking she’s stupid or something, when we all know that’s not true.” 

Calling Donna stupid? That didn’t sound like him. “Well, did you call her stupid?”

“No! I just pointed out to her that I wasn’t used to congressmen asking her out, and that’s why I had assumed he was offering her a job.”

So, the date was a congressman, huh? I bet that’s killing him. “And that’s it?”

“Yes!” I looked up at Betty, Marjorie, and George who were giving me the universal ‘it’s your turn to deal’ look.

“Ok, I’ll call you back.”

“But, Mom, I need your help!” He was whining at that point.

“I said I’ll call you back Dear, it’s my turn to deal.”

“You’re deserting me in my time of need to play cards? I thought you wanted grandchildren.” That’s why my son is in politics. He always knows which card to play.

“I do.”

“Well, Donna’s the only woman who has any chance of putting up with me long enough to procreate.”

There’s no doubt about that. “I’m well aware of that, Dear. I’ll call you back.”

“But…I can’t keep following her indefinitely. I’m going to have to go to work tomorrow.” 

“I’ll call you back.” For crying out loud, he’s impatient.

“Your son?” asked Betty after I hung up.

“Yes, he’s... having an off day.” How do you tell someone that your son accidentally told the woman he loves that she’s a stupid prostitute?

“When’s he going to marry Donna?” Yes, they’ve all heard about my son and his amazing assistant. And not from me. Josh doesn’t’ visit often, but he when he’s here, he checks in with her about every hour. People pick up on it. And if my friends, who’ve only met him once or twice have picked up on it, then you can be sure he’s not fooling anyone in Washington DC.

“Your guess is as good as mine. At this point, I’m just hoping he tells her how he feels before she marries someone else.”

She laid the queen of clubs down and looked at me. “You need to play matchmaker. Speed things up a bit.”

I smiled at her. What was this? Fiddler On The Roof? “I’m not a matchmaker.”

“Sure you’re not,” she said sarcastically. Looking back, she might’ve had a point.

I played out my hand, but then excused myself to call Donna. “So, I hear the hot date was with a congressman? Successful, probably rich, two homes…”

“He called me stupid,” she whispered, and I could hear her crying. How can love this deep be this blind?

I spoke gently to her. “He did? Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she said defeated.

“I just spoke with him. He doesn’t remember calling you stupid. He told me that a congressman had never asked you out and that’s why he thought it was a job offer. Certainly he doesn’t think you’re stupid if he thinks congress is trying to offer you a job. Are you sure you didn’t misinterpret what he was saying? You’ve had a tough day.”

“That’s what he told you he said?”

“Yes, and it didn’t sound to me like he meant you were stupid.”

She laughed sarcastically. “That’s because he left out a chunk of the conversation.”

At that point, he was lucky he was several states away, otherwise I might have strangled him. “I see… and what did my son really say?”

And then she told me about their conversation. Which made me want to fly to Virginia and strangle my son.

“Honey, I need you to hold on a second. Don’t hang up, I’ll be right back, and we’ll figure this out.” I made a decision right then and there to end this little game my son was playing and used my three-way calling feature to call Josh. The conversation that followed was not a kind thing for a mother to do, but was needed none-the-less.

And when he spilled that he had made sure congress knew Donna was off-limits, I took a deep breath and said, “There you go, Donna. I told you there was a reason.”

“What? What are you talking about Mom?” Josh asked.

“Donna’s on the line too.”

“What? Donna?” She didn’t answer him, but I’m guessing she’d already hung up by then. 

“Mom…” 

“I’m not sorry, Joshua. You’re playing games with that woman’s heart and I’m not going to help you do it,” I said and hung up. I didn’t know what would happen, but at least it was out in the open.

So, now it’s 8:00, and I’ve been waiting all afternoon to hear from either one of them to tell me what’s going on. I’m beginning to worry that Donna’s killed him and I’m going to have to help her stash the body. I know he’s my son, but he certainly deserves it. Finally, the phone rings.

“Hello?”

“Mom, hi!” he says joyously.

“Joshua, she let you live?”

“Yes, she let me live.”

“Well, you’re a lucky man.”

“I’m a very lucky man,” he says, like he has a secret. 

“So, are you and Donna back home?”

“No. We’re…in Fredericksburg, Virginia. We’re gonna, umm, stay here tonight and head back in the morning.” 

“Really? Long drive from Fredericksburg to DC?” Last time I was in DC, Donna and I went to an outlet mall in Fredericksburg. It’s only an hour from DC. 

“Well…we just…decided to stay here.” I know I’m 70 years old, but ‘we just decided to stay here’? Yeah right. 

“So everything’s ok…there?” 

“Better than ok,” and I can almost hear him smiling. “I just wanted to say thanks for your help.”

“You’re welcome. You told her?”

“I did.” It’s about damn time.

“And now you’re working on my grandchildren?”

“Mom!” Well, that was fun.


End file.
